Long before John Rocker offered him his thoughts on New York City transit, SI.com columnist Jeff…
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Somewhat recently, I was speaking with a peer of mine about Albert Belle, the former Cleveland Indians outfielder who—to be 100 percent honest—used to scare the living crap out of me.

I was a young Sports Illustrated writer, skinny and gangly and owner of a 0-1 lifetime schoolyard fight record. Belle was a snarling, angry, enormous bull who could kill me with his toenail. He was, often, threatening, and when I walked past his locker, my pace always went from walk to steady jog.

That said, Albert Belle in a leg cast would have been an entirely different scenario.

Leg casts are the destroyers of toughness. A. Because they slow you down; B. Because they reveal genuine vulnerability. If you're wearing a leg cast, you're neither Superman nor Captain America. Hell, you're not even Super Dave. You're just some fool who—clearly—can be injured.

That's what baffles me about this video. Sure, the shirtless dude is flabby and unimposing; a poor man's Steve Zouski (Writer's note: If a guy is walking around downtown—any downtown—without a shirt, never bet on him to win anything. A fight, a skipping contest. Never). But—Jesus friggin' Jesus—his attacker is wearing a thick black cast all along his right leg. Literally, something inside of that thing is broken.

In my mind, I can hear Mickey screaming at the Rock between rounds—"He's got a fucking broken right leg! I'm yer manager—go after the leg! Go after the fucking leg!" I can hear John Kreese calmly telling Johnny, "Sweep the leg, boy. Sweep his broken right leg." Or, put differently: Mike Tyson with a broken right leg doesn't get beyond one round against Sterling Benjamin. Hell, the fight doesn't even happen.

So what does Flabby Guy do when, come 50 seconds into the brawl, he grabs the metal cane from Leg Man? Absolutely nothing. He backs up and backs up and backs up and backs up, until the whole thing becomes a horror flick cliché—slow, steady killer methodically works his way toward the victim.

The poor schlub never had a chance.

And now, the rest of your Tuesday Night Fights:

• Rare is the pajama-clad parking-lot fight that includes the quote "I'm in the process of having a miscarriage right now." But this one from South Carolina does. Woe. (Start of violence, instantly)

• Ayo, shit got real at the Springbrook in Lima, Ohio. Most worrisome is how very few in harm's way heeded the clear-the-building call. (SoV, instantly)

• Just in case you bought into the STUPID LIES that Russians were, in fact, Caucasians, this video comes to your neural rescue. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, they meant folks from the Caucasus region as opposed to just run-of-the-mill white folk, but what fun would this entry have been otherwise when compared to all the other Russian fights we've seen. (SoV, instantly)

• What Would You Do If You Only Had Seven Seconds to Prove Yourself on the Parking Lot of Battle? (Peak action: 2:28-4:40):

• Per the YouTube uploader, "Two girls boxing while crowd persuades them to fight shirtless." This is a valid description, as shirts are removed. Happy New Year's, everyone, there may not be many more of these left. (SoV, 1:48)